To the Sky
by Distinctly M.E
Summary: This story is dedicated to my darling friend Kate, whose birthday is today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KATE!      Note: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.


"Hey there, little one. What's happened to you?" 

Gentle hands scoop her up with the same amount of care she showed the eggs she laid last spring. It hurts, a lot, and she protests the movement with a flurry of flapping wings that only makes the pain worse. The hands tighten slightly, not allowing her to escape, yet not jarring her injured wing at all. After a moment or two of pointless struggle she stops suddenly, yet her dark eyes never leave the face of this strange creature who's taken pity on her.

"That's better, pretty lady. See, I ain't gonna hurt ya. I jest wanna fix that busted up wing o' yours. I cain't leave you out here for the buzzards to get."

Even though she can't understand the words, his tone is kind and calming and his continued murmurs as he walks keep her still. He stops a moment and there's a strange pounding sound followed by a soft squeak.

"Hoss, how many times do I have to tell you that you can open the door yourself?"

"But, Pa, my hands is full!"

"I see that they are. Well, what have you got there, son?" 

"A hurt bird. She done gone and broke her wing."

"Lemme see, Hossie!"

The hands suddenly plunge downward, setting her into a frenzied panic again. She's brought against his chest and the dark calms her.

"Careful, Joe! You've done gone and scared her!"

"I-I not mean to, Hossie."

"Aw, Joe. Don't cry. Wanna help me take care of her 'til her wing heals?"

"Weally? Fank you!"

"Hoss, why don't Joseph and I go look for a place for her to stay? You can go ask Marie to help you set that wing. She's with Adam in the kitchen, helping him study."

"Okay, Pa. Thanks!"

She's being moved again, into warmth and good smells. She makes a soft little noise, unsure of what will happen to her and too tired to do anything about it.

"Eric, there you are! What have you here?"

"It's a birdie, Mama."

"Oh, dear. She's hurt herself, hasn't she?"

"Yeah. Can ya help me fix her wing?"

"Hoss, the likelihood of that bird…" 

"Hush, Adam; there is no need to say such things. Of course I will, mon cherie."

The hands that have been holding her loosen their grip, and she finds herself being transferred to another's grasp. These hands are slightly larger, and the finger that softly strokes her head has a tenderness that only comes with practice. As she's gently cradled there is a general bustle around her for awhile and then something touches her broken wing. Fresh pain washes over her and she struggles against her tormenter.

"Hold on, birdie; we're only tryin' to help ya!"

His voice, so innocent and kind, once again quiets her, though the hurt continues as her wing is splinted and wrapped and she occasionally chirps piteously. Finally it is done, just as the voices from before—a big one and a little one—return.

"Hossie, Hossie, we found a biwd cage! And I maked a nest!"

"Joseph, it is lovely! Did your Pa help you?"

"Yeah. Pa is tall and I is not. He weached it down."

"I am so very glad that your Pa is good at weaching."

"Cover your eyes, Joe! They're gonna kiss!"

"I'm never going to get any studying done with all of you crowded in here!"

"Adam. You apologize."

"What? I haven't done anything, Pa!"

"You will not use that tone with your mother and me."

"Sorry then."

"For what?"

"I'm sorry for being rude. I pray that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I'm going up to my room."

"Adam…. Oh, Ben. You two are so alike!"

"He shows no respect for authority, Marie. I can't approve of such behavior."

"He is ambitious and only frustrated when his dreams seem crowded out by the noise of the little ones. Tell me that you were not once that way."

"Hossie, I can wook yet?"

"That was different. Back in my day one didn't speak to his elders with anything but respect unless he was asking for a tanning."

"Mama, can I have my bird back?"

She twitches uncomfortably, the rise and fall of voices unlike the peacefulness of the forest that she usually enjoys. The hands have not stopped their continual stroking of her feathers, but she grows fearful at the noises and movement that surround her. She is relieved when she is transferred back into the first pair of small hands and only fusses a little when she is placed on the ground surrounded a wall of twigs.

"There ya go, birdie."

"Where she gonna live, Hossie?"

"The barn."

"But, Pa, I wanted her ta stay in my room!"

"That is an animal, Hoss. Not a person. People stay in the house, animals stay in the barn."

"Yessir."

"Joe, you wanna come help me get her settled out in the barn?"

"Birdie stay in Joe's room?"

"Nah. Pa says she has to live in the barn."

"Oh. Okay. Wet's go."

"Woah, Joe! Lemme carry that. We don't wanna hurt her."

The ground pitches under her a moment before steadying itself. Curious, she hops to the twigs and peers between them, surprised to see the world moving past her. Looking up she sees the face of the creature that first picked her up, and looking down she sees a smaller creature who's gazing at her with wonder.

"She wookin' at me, Hossie."

"She probably thinks you're a good lookin' fella."

"She pwetty, too."

"Ain't she? But she's gonna be even purtier once that wing heals and she can fly again."

_Fly?_ Of all the noises they've made, this one is the only one that makes sense to her. It whispers of fragrant spring breezes rustling through her outspread feathers, of a patchwork of fields spread out below her, of a thousand places to be and no need to visit any of them. She chirps softly, longing for the time when her wings will again sustain such sport.

It gets cold, and she smells piney air as the twig-contraption continues to move, and then suddenly it's warm again and she's surrounded by the sound and smell of beasts. The ground jolts slightly and the creatures step away to gaze at her.

"Little lady, this is where Pa says ya have to stay. It's warm here, and my pony'll keep an eye on you."

"Hossie?"

"Yeah?"

"What her name is?"

"I dunno. What do ya think it should be, little buddy?"

"Ow."

"Ow?"

"No, _ow._"

"Who?"

"Yeah. Who-who. An ow."

"Oh, you mean an owl?"

"Yeah. Ow."

"But, Joe, she ain't an owl. Owl's have big eyes and go 'hoo-hoo'. She's got little eyes and goes 'tweet tweet'."

"Oh. Kitty?"

"Joe, she ain't a kitty either! Think of…of…of a Bible name or somethin'."

"Moses?"

"That's a boy's name. She's a girl."

"Oh. I not fink of any names."

"What about Carrie?"

"I carry cage now?"

"Um, nevermind. We'll ask Mama what she thinks we should name her. Come on. Birdie's all set for now."

"I wanna watch birdie!"

"Uh-uh. Come inside."

"No!"

"Joe, you ain't allowed to stay out here alone! I wanna go inside!"

"No, no, no!"

"I'll teach ya ta play checkers."

"Weally?"

"Yeah."

"Wet's go! Mama! Mama! Hossie gonna teach me checkers!"

She watches them go, the little one soaring out in front and the other one following more slowly. She likes the other one, the one who'd found her. Once they are gone, she settles herself to exploring her new home. A pile of straw is the only feature in the twigged-in space, and she busies herself with rearranging the straws into a soft nest which, once completed, she snuggles into. It's warmer here than it was in her perch in the tree and she's content. Content to wait here until her wing is healed and she can take to the sky…


End file.
